


Azplana

by Africana123



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Consensual Non-Consent, Dark, F/M, Pregnancy Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-09-25 19:57:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20377252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Africana123/pseuds/Africana123
Summary: Roan is crowned king but knows that he can't hold his throne for long without some serious power by his side. So he offers to make Wanheda his queen. Clarke agrees to protect her people and leaves with Roan, leaving Bellamy devastated. She's been married to Roan for a few months when they travel to Camp Jaha for a trade negotiation. Knowing that this might be his only chance, Bellamy grabs her when no one is looking and smut ensues. (No Ali or praimfaya. No Lexa mentioned either.)





	1. Chapter 1

Clarke hadn't pictured her life turning out this way if she was being honest. She thought that she'd grow old in space, become a doctor, maybe marry someone from alpha station. That dream died when she was sent down to Earth. By the age of 19 she'd fought wars, almost died, have been kidnapped, tortured, and committed genocide. So, yeah, Clarke had pictured her life in a lot of different ways but she never imagined this. She never thought she'd end up a queen. 

Roan was a surprisingly good king. He was an even better husband. 

That's what made all of this so hard. It'd be easier if Roan was a brute who forced himself on her or beat her. She was used to suffering for her people. But Roan was surprisingly thoughtful. He'd bring her charcoal and paper when he visited the market or fruit when he went to talk with the southern tribes. He talked to her like she was person - he was the only one who did that in all of Azgeda, everyone else saw her as Wanheda. And when the first of many assassination attempts against her happened, he held her close afterwards and rocked her till she calmed down. Even at night, when she was expected to preform her wifely duties, he was gentle. He'd run his hand up and down her thigh and kiss her until she'd open her legs for him. Then he'd spend almost hours down there stroking her until she was practically begging for him. Only then would he turn her over onto her knees and take her fast and brutal like he wanted.

All in all, it was killing Clarke. She was eaten up with guilt. She had an undeservingly nice husband who she was almost sure loved her, but all she could think of as he buried himself inside her was of a certain curly haired, freckled man she had left behind. It was all she could do every night to not scream out Bellamy's name as she came around _Roan_. Roan was a good man but even he'd kill her if he thought she lusted after another. 

All this to say that Clarke was dreading every step she took closer to Camp Jaha. Roan was by her side, riding upon his own horse, jabbering on about _something_ and Clarke wasn't hearing a word. She kept thinking about what Bellamy would do when he saw her. She kept picturing his face when he found out she was marrying Roan. She kept seeing the _devasted_ heart-broken rage that had taken hold of his features. She kept recalling how he had destroyed his room in his anger, how he had screamed that she was a whore for selling herself to the Ice Nation. How he had threatened that she should never come back if she left him behind again. 

But maybe now he'd see that this was all for him. That she had only left to secure this alliance. That she left to keep him and the rest of their people safe. And she _had_ kept them safe. Attacks on Skaikru had drastically decreased following the news that Azgeda was protecting them. She had heard that her people had started having children again. That they were finally thriving. She had even heard that members of the original 100 were starting to settle down and procreate. _She_ had made that possible. 

But she'd be lying if she said that the thought of Bellamy putting a child in another woman didn't fill her with white hot rage. He would always be _hers_, even if they never had managed to be together before she left. 

The gates of Camp Jaha appeared before them and Clarke was drawn out of her thoughts. Swallowing her apprehension, she turned to look at her husband. 

"Let's get this over with," she told him. 

He just smiled back and reached to squeeze her hand in comfort. 

Their arrival went as planned. Her mother was waiting at the gate and cried when she saw Clarke's new ceremonial scars. Some of her old friends came by to say hi. The extra guards were taken to their guest rooms to get settled in. And Jaha and Kane both ushered their party along to the council room so they could begin talking trade. Roan, like she knew he'd be, was magnificent. He was kind when he could afford to be but still put Azgeda first. He ironed out a trade agreement that helped both of their people. Azgeda would get guns and people with the knowledge to make greenhouses. And Skaikru would get animal hides to help them with the winter, as well as extra food. 

All in all it was going very well until Clarke slipped away to go to the bathroom. 

She walked outside of the main ship's great hull and was making her way across the camp to go to the latrine when a hand reached out and pulled her down a makeshift alley. Her screams were muffled by her attacker's hand covering her mouth and she thrashed around violently until a voice hissed in her ear. 

"Keep this up, princess, and I'll fuck you right here." 

She froze as she recognized the voice. She finally managed to rip her head from his grasp. 

"_Bellamy_???" she gasped out. She craned her neck to see his face and immediately regretted it. 

Bellamy looked rough. His breath smelled like alcohol and he had stubble growing on his jaw. He looked haggard, like he hadn't slept in a long while and he had put on some more muscle. If she didn't know him she'd have been terrified. 

"Bellamy, what the hell are you doing?" she demanded. Belatedly, she realized he was still dragging her down the alley towards a backdoor. 

He didn't say anything, just shoved her through the door and quickly closed it behind him. His body stood blocking the escape route and for the first time Clarke looked around her. It looked like a torture dungeon, like the kind Azgeda used on prisoners of war. There was a table off to the side, piled with knives and other weapons and chains were connected to the wall. The most worrisome part of it all, though, was the makeshift bed placed in the middle of the room. It looked like someone had just set it up. It was just a mattress on the floor but the gag and ties next to it filled Clarke with fear. 

"Bellamy, what is this?" she asked backing away from him. 

Bellamy didn't say anything just advanced on her. 

"Bellamy, you don't have to do this," she pleaded almost trapped in a corner. 

For the first time since the alley, he spoke. "You're right. I don't have to. But I _want_ to." 

With that he lunged at her and Clarke screamed. She threw a hand out to slap him away but he grabbed her wrist and pinned it the wall. She kept thrashing around, trying to break his hold but he was too strong and she didn't _really_ want to hurt him. He quickly pinned her body against the wall and smashed her head back. The world spun for a few sickening moment and when it righted itself she was splayed across the bed with Bellamy tying her arms together. 

"Why?" she cried out, "Why are you doing this?" 

Bellamy didn't look up as he answered. "You fucked me over by leaving, now I'm fucking you." 

"Please don't, Bellamy," she begged, tears streaming down her face. Bellamy just rolled his eyes and shoved a gag into her mouth.

Clarke suppressed a whimper. What had happened to him? This wasn't the same Bellamy she had left behind. This Bellamy was almost feral. 

Bellamy grabbed the waistband of her leather pants and ripped them from her legs. She tried flinching away from him but he grabbed her hips and dragged her closer once again. 

"Stay," he ordered and then grabbed her golden shirt - the one Roan had given her as a wedding present - and tugged it up till it tangled where her hands were bound. 

Bellamy leaned down and kissed her cunt over her panties. A sob tore through Clarke as she was reminded that this was her former best friend, this was _Bellamy_ doing this to her. 

He kissed down one thigh till he reached her ankle then kissed up the other leg before pressing one more gentle kiss to her mound. He hovered for a second then struck down to nip at her. She screamed through her gag but Bellamy reared up to slap her quiet. He tore her panties at the sides and pulled them from her body. He swiped a finger across her clit and against her will she arched towards him. 

Horror ran through her, but underneath it all was a streak of pleasure that was begging her to just _give in_. Even now she wanted him. She had never stopped wanting him. 

Bellamy trailed his finger down lower to play at her entrance and Clarke closed her eyes. This was it. He was going to cross a line he couldn't uncross. 

"Look at me, Clarke." 

Clarke didn't open her eyes. 

"Clarke, look at me." 

Clarke still kept her eyes closed. 

"Princess," he growled, "Look. At. Me." Bellamy pinched the skin of her hip just hard enough to bruise and Clarke's eyes flew open. 

Bellamy's dark eyes bored into her own and in the iris of his eyes she saw her scared face reflected. She looked wild, she thought. For months she had held it together under a calm detached exterior but a few minutes with Bellamy had cracked her facade wide open. 

"Tell me to stop, right now, and I'll leave," Bellamy told her. 

Clarke hesitated. 

"Clarke," Bellamy warned, "Tell me to stop now otherwise I won't give you a chance to stop later." 

A rage filled Clarke and without thinking she spat in his face. Let him take that however he would. 

"You bitch," he roared and slapped her once again. He wiped the spit from his cheek and grabbed her throat to hold her down. "Is this what you want?" He demanded, "Do you want me to fuck you like the whore you are?" 

She didn't say anything but a tingle in her lower belly told her she was getting wet. She prayed Bellamy wouldn't notice, but he immediately did. 

"Fuck," he whispered, "You do want this, don't you princess?" 

Clarke wished that he'd stop calling her that. Every time he said that she was filled with an aching want for him. A desire that she shouldn't have, not when he was about to take what she should've given to him freely. Not when she was married to a man that'd kill them both for this. 

Bellamy leaned down and Clarke's breath caught in her throat. He hovered for a second above her, his hot breath fanning the flames of her desire. _Finally_, he leaned down the rest of the day and licked a hot, burning path up her womanhood. Clarke screamed through her gag and her hips arched closer to his face. Please, don't stop, she thought. He practically devoured her. He would lick burning strips up her pussy then every few strokes he'd suck her clit into his mouth and graze it with his sharp teeth. All the while her hips rode his face. 

Bellamy pulled back and she had to muffle a sob of disappointment. 

"You taste exactly like I knew you would," he told her, licking her wet from his fingers. He leaned down and pulled the gag from her mouth. "Here, taste yourself," he whispered leaning down to kiss her. 

His tongue invaded her mouth and this time Clarke couldn't hide her moan. He tasted _heavenly_, like a mix of the berry moonshine he must've drank and a little like her light floral taste and something that must just be him. 

He pressed himself between her thighs to grind against her. He muffled his groan in her neck. 

"Fuck, I missed you," he muttered in the skin behind her ear. "Should've tied you up and kept you from leaving all those months ago." 

Clarke whimpered at the sudden throbbing in her cunt that his words had caused. She wanted that too. She wished he'd have forced her to stay. She wished that he had handcuffed her to the table and fucked her into never leaving. 

"Did you want that too, baby? Did you want me to make you stay?" Bellamy asked pulling back just a little. She cried out as his hard length moved away from where she needed it but she shouldn't have worried. He sat back on his hunches and pulled her onto his lap so that she could still grind against him. 

"Did you want me like this, Clarke?" he asked again. 

She froze for a second. In the back of her mind she knew that he wasn't doing anything she wouldn't have begged him to do, but she could still lie to herself. She could still say that he took this without her permission. If she answered him right now honestly, then this all changed. This became something else, something that would be a betrayal to Roan. And no matter how much she missed Bellamy, she still _was_ fond of her husband.

"Clarke, do you want me?" Bellamy asked one finally time. 

Clarke hesitated before nodding just once. 

Bellamy broke out into a ravenous grin and quickly started undoing his pants. Clarke had to look away to ignore the reality of what she was doing. 

"Untie me," she begged. 

Bellamy paused for just a moment before nodding and undoing the ropes around her wrists. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched as he pulled his pants and underwear down just enough to free his dick. She had to close her eyes when she saw it. It was longer than Roan's but not as thick. Roan would stretch her wide when he fucked her, would make her ache for days afterwards, but Bellamy would reached places Roan was unable to touch. She clenched her thighs just a little to stop from writhing. 

"Turn over onto your knees," Bellamy commanded, finally looking up at her. 

Clarke hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. His face grew dark at her disobedience but she rushed to explain. 

"That's how Roan and I . . . I won't do this with you that way. That way is ours." 

For a terrifying moment, Clarke thought he'd just flip her over anyway just to teach her a lesson about withholding any part of herself from him, but he nodding once before guiding himself to her entrance. Clarke held her breath and watched his face. He still looked angry. Without warning he thrust his way inside her and Clarke let out a short scream before Bellamy clapped a hand over her mouth. 

"Fuuuccckkk," Bellamy groaned out at the feel of her. "Yes! Take me, you stupid bitch." 

Clarke whimpered at his words but felt herself grow wetter at his unabashed desire. 

Bellamy pulled back and thrust back in, harder than before. He kept thrusting, harder and rougher and harder and rougher each time he withdrew. Clarke's head tipped back in ecstasy at the feel of him sawing across her G-spot. She started riding him from her position in his lap and Bellamy groaned out his encouragement. Distantly, she heard a creak. 

"Does he fuck you like this, princess?" Bellamy panted out, pushing her down so he had total control. "Do you open your legs like a little slut every time he asks you to?" 

Clarke couldn't lie. She didn't have enough headspace to. She nodded tensely, revealing in the feel of him claiming her. 

Bellamy growled out loud at her answer and gave a particularly brutal thrust. "Do you scream his name when you come?" he demanded. 

"Yes!" Clarke shouted, arching towards him as he hit her cervix. 

Bellamy dropped closer to her to suck a bruise onto her neck. With her skin still in between his teeth, he asked, "Has he fucked a baby into you yet?" 

Clarke's eyes flew open - she hadn't even realized she'd closed them - and she stared at Bellamy. He slowed down his pace to a delicious grind against her clit and she whimpered with every movement. 

"No, he hasn't," she answered honestly. 

Bellamy gave her a mad grin. "_Good_." And he started thrusting harder agin, more determined. 

Clarke belatedly realized his plan and she tried squirming away from him but he just grabbed her hips and kept drawing her closer with every thrust. 

"Bellamy, you can't!" she cried out, so close to orgasm she could barely think. 

"Watch me!" he hissed, thrusting even harder. She started to feel some pain he was hitting her so hard. "You want that, princess? Want my bastard baby sitting on _his_ throne?" 

Clarke had to close her eyes at the image of her pregnant with Bellamy's baby. 

"You think he'd know?" Bellamy panted, "You think he'd know I fucked his pretty wife and put my baby in her?" 

Bellamy seemed lost in his head as he let his words carry him off. 

"Bellamy, please pull out!" Clarke cried but Bellamy ignored her. 

"Fuck, you'd get so round and big. He'd think it was his but every time our baby kicked you'd know and would remember what we did. Fuck," he groaned, almost undone, "God, I'd live in Azgeda if I had to. I'd fuck you every chance I got. Fuck, I'd give you another after the first. Would never stop fucking my babies into you. Would never stop loving you." 

Clarke's mouth opened in a silent scream as she came, Bellamy not far behind her. He came deep inside of her, marking her, claiming her as his own. Clarke came again at the feel of it spreading inside her. Secretly, she hoped that he was right. That everything he said would happen. Bellamy placed one last lazy kiss against her mouth and Clarke smiled. 

Suddenly a slow clap filled the room and they both froze. Clarke turned her head and there standing next to the door - the same door she hadn't paid attention to since Bellamy started fucking her - was Roan with an unreadable expression on his face. 

He looked between the both of them and, above her, Bellamy tensed. Fuck, he was still _inside_ of her. 

"Well that was quite a show," Roan drawled taking a step closer.


	2. Scream My Name

Roan stalked forward towards them with his blade drawn. Bellamy quickly pulled out of Clarke and crouched, naked, in front of her to protect her. 

"Get. Off. Of. My. Wife," Roan threatened, enunciating each syllable of every word. 

Bellamy squared his shoulders and got ready for a fight. He'd die before he let Roan hurt Clarke. 

Horror filled Clarke as the scene played within her mind's eye. She knew what would happen if she didn't stop them. Bellamy was a great fighter, but Roan was better at hand-to-hand combat. He'd kill Bellamy without breaking a sweat and a war would surely follow. 

"Stop!" Clarke shouted as Bellamy rose to his feet, Roan only a few feet away, "Please!" 

Bellamy ignored her and took a step forward to meet Roan, but Roan - sweet, loving Roan - paused and glanced at her, his eyes unreadable. 

His eyes widen and his mouth dropped open before he quickly schooled his features. "Was this - was this _consensual_?" 

Clarke didn't say anything as shame washed over her. Roan didn't say anything for a long moment, just stared at her face. To anyone but her, he'd appear disinterested - maybe annoyed - but Clarke had gotten to know her husband well over these past few months. She knew him better than anyone and she knew that when Roan pursed his lips and squinted like that, that he was trying to hide how he really felt. She knew that this had wounded him in a way not much else could.

"I see," Roan muttered, before turning back to Bellamy who was still prepared to fight. Roan clenched his hand tighter around the handle of his sword before slowly, reluctantly loosening his grip to let out a slow, bitter laugh. "You Skaikru, you really do love invading lands that don't belong to you, don't you?" 

Bellamy squared his shoulders, like he was expecting a blow. "Who says she doesn't belong to me?" 

Clarke held her breath as the words left Bellamy's mouth. Roan was a patient man, but even he could lose his temper. She watched with bated breath as Roan slowly approached Bellamy until they were practically nose to nose. 

"I'd watch your tongue, _boy_, otherwise someone might cut it out." 

Clarke mentally begged Bellamy to be quiet, to quit while he was ahead, but that was never really Bellamy, now was it? 

Smiling a sickly sweet grin, Bellamy responded, "I don't know. Your _wife_ sure seems to love my tongue, doesn't she?"

Roan snarled and shoved Bellamy hard. Bellamy staggered back before regaining his balance and struck forward to slam against Roan's chest, causing the king to grab onto his shoulders in order to remain upright. Clarke quickly jumped to her feet and flew to their sides before things could escalate further. 

"Stop!" she cried out, grabbing both of their arms. 

Neither glanced at her, preferring to stare the other one down. 

"Bellamy," Clarke begged, "please, go." 

Bellamy finally turned to look at her, an incredulous look smeared across his face. "What?" he demanded. 

"Go," Clarke repeated in a firmer voice. 

Bellamy hesitated for a long second, glancing between her and Roan, before, snarling, he pushed Roan off him and grabbed his clothes before storming out of the room. 

The door slammed shut behind him and for a long moment everything was silent. But then, Roan spoke. 

"You ... wanted this?" he murmured. It wasn't a question but Clarke answered it all the same. 

Staring into her husband's eyes, she whispered, "I did." 

Roan exploded away from her, letting out a sound of disgust. He paced around the room like a caged animal before pausing in front of the table littered with torture equipment. He stared at it for a long moment before picking up a small delicate blade. Clarke had been in Azgeda long enough to know what that type of blade was used for. It was meant to peel off layers of skin without letting the victim bleed out. He studied it for a long moment, before slowly placing it back down. 

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill him for this," Roan spoke lowly, voice rumbling in the bottom of his throat. 

Clarke hesitated. The logical thing would be to remain quiet and not risk her husband's wrath, but Clarke was tired of doing the logical thing. "It's not like he was actually planning on using that on me." 

Roan whipped around, "And how do you know that!? When you didn't come back I sent the guards after you. They said a passerby saw him _dragging_ you down an alley. How do you know he wasn't planning on hurting you?" 

Clarke felt her own temper rising but tried to control it. "Because, I know him. Bellamy wouldn't hurt me." 

"You _know_ him?" Roan barked out, "You know him? What type of bullshit fucking response it that?" 

_ _Clarke rushed to defend him, "Bellamy is a good man. He doesn't like hurting people." _ _

_ _"Does a good man do this?" Roan demanded, "Does a good man fuck another man's wife? Does a good man _drag_ a woman down an alley to fuck her?" _ _

_ _Clarke waved the questions off with one hand. "Bellamy would have stopped if I had asked him to-" _ _

_ _"Do you love him?" Roan interrupted. _ _

_ _For the first time since Roan had happened upon them, Clarke felt truly naked. She stared at her husband with her mouth open in shock. "What?" she finally asked. _ _

_ _Roan strode across the room to grab her by her shoulders. "Do. You. Love. Him." _ _

_ _Clarke's mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out. _ _

_ _Roan apparently took that as an answer as he recoiled from her to grasp at his own hair._ _

"Roan," Clarke tried, stepping towards her husband but he stepped away from her. 

"How long?" he demanded, "How long have you dreamt of him fucking you?" 

Clarke didn't answer. 

Roan took a step closer to her. "Did you think of him while you were with me in our bed? Did you fantasize that it was _him_ on top of you, _inside_ of you?" 

Clarke looked away, but Roan wouldn't allow that. He grabbed her face and roughly turned her head so that she was looking at him. "Did you think of him while I fucked you?" Roan demanded. 

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment, wishing this moment away, before opening her eyes again to stare at her husband. "Sometimes, yes." 

Roan's grip on her face tightened. "Is that why we haven't conceived yet? Have you been sabotaging our efforts because you wish it was _his_ brat inside of you?" 

Clarke's mouth dropped in shock. "No!" she cried out, pushing him off her. "I've been nothing but faithful to you!" 

Roan snorted, "You call this faithful?" 

Clarke blushed but continued, "Until today, I have been nothing but loyal to you. I am _still_ loyal to you." 

The muscles in Roan's jaw kept popping in and out as he ground his teeth. She'd never seen him look so angry. She was beginning to be frozen with fear till she realized that his gaze kept dropping to in between her thighs where Bellamy's cum was slowly dripping out of her. She quickly snapped her legs closed but it was too late. Roan struck forward to grab her by her hair. 

"Prove it," Roan hissed before stepping back to fiddle with his belt. 

Clarke just blinked at him in confusion. "What?" 

"Get on your knees," he demanded, his hands finally undoing his belt buckle. 

Clarke just stared at him, unmoving. 

Roan sneered at her when he saw her standing still. "Get. On. Your. Knees." 

Clarke swallowed, nervously but if this is how they made things right then so be it. She sunk down onto her knees in front of him, staring into his eyes the entire time. Roan shoved his pants down just enough to free his cock, before giving himself two long, rough pumps. He grabbed her by her long braids and dragged her closer to his dick. Clarke's hands automatically flew to his thighs in a desperate attempt at leverage. She tried twisting her head away but he just dragged her closer till his cock was pressed against her lips. 

"Open your mouth, slut!" Roan snarled, using his other hand to press his thumb to the bend of her jaw, forcing her mouth open. 

Before Clarke could even take a breath he was forcing his way inside her. Roan thrust hard into her mouth and towards the back of her throat, causing her to gag but he didn't slow down. He just pulled pack slightly then began fucking her face. Clarke desperately begged him to slow down but her words came out jumbled around his length 

"Fuuuck," Roan groaned out at the feel of her tongue moving against him. He snapped his hips harder into her face, causing Clarke to whimper. "Yes, fuck. Take it, you stupid bitch, take it." 

Clarke quickly realized she had no choice but to go along with his movements or choke, so she relaxed her throat and starting sucking. Roan moaned his approval and his thrusts came harder, but less jarring. Roan quickly got carried away, using her like she was nothing but a body for his enjoyment. 

"Fuck, my little azplana," he groaned, "I should kill you-" he cut off to whine a little as she deepthroated him, "Fuck, I should cut your pretty little neck, but seeing you on your knees for me -" his hips stuttered into her face when she licked across the slit at the tip of his dick, "fuck, seeing you take me like this - fuck, I want you." 

His rhythm started changing and Clarke realized he was close to cumming. She started to pull away - she hated people cumming in her mouth - but Roan just yanked her back by her hair. Her scalp stung and her lungs were begging for air, but Roan just kept thrusting into her until finally, with a long drawn out groan, he came down her throat. His cum flooded her mouth, tasting musky and a little bitter before he pulled back and finished on her face. His cum splattered across her lips and the bridge of her nose, narrowly missing her eyes. Clarke got ready to spit out what was in her mouth when Roan noticed. He quickly slapped a hand over both her nose and her mouth, cutting off her air. 

"Swallow it," he commanded, once again going back to his cool, detached rage. 

Clarke hesitated for a moment before complying. She felt it marking her all the way down her throat.

He swiped the cum marking her face onto his thumb then slide that too into her mouth. "Clean it up." His eyes never left her mouth as she licked him clean. 

She saw his dick twitch a little as she kitten-licked his fingers, but he quickly pulled away and tucked himself back into his pants. He ran a rough hand down his face like the weight of today was catching up to him. 

Clarke roughly wiped her face with the back of her hand, before standing up. "Happy?" She spat at him, angrily. 

Roan doesn't look at her when he answers, "No. I don't think I'll be happy for a long time." 

Clarke frowned and reached out to touch his shoulder, but Roan just pulled away. 

"Go to our room," he muttered turning away from her. 

"Roan," Clarke protested but Roan just cut her off. 

"Leave, Clarke. Now." 

Clarke hesitated before finally complying. She quickly got dressed and made her way to the door. She paused in the doorway to look back at her husband, but he was just staring at the mattress. Guilt sat heavy in the pit of her stomach but there was nothing she could do. This would just be another on her long list of regrets. So turning away from him, she walked out the door and back to their room.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry that I've been AWOL. I've been writing a book and posting it on Wattpad and got sidetracked. There may be a part two about Bellamy/Clarke/Roan if you guys liked this chapter. Tell me what you think. If you guys liked it I'll start writing.


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